


Fantastic Beasts (And Where To Find Them)

by stileskolpath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Loves Stiles, M/M, Marking, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Stiles Loves Derek, Teen Wolf Crossover Harry Potter, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileskolpath/pseuds/stileskolpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Derek was frustrated. </p>
<p>Why? </p>
<p>Because Stiles had woken him up and dragged him from their shared room in Gryffindor Tower because he had remembered something Derek had said earlier that week, some off-handed comment about American werewolves in Scotland. </p>
<p>It came out before he had realized that he hadn’t actually told Stiles that he was one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantastic Beasts (And Where To Find Them)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is a prompt that I filled for my favorite person ever, Margaux. It is a Teen-Wolf Harry Potter crossover, and my first one (so don't hate me too much for it)

Derek was frustrated. Why? Because Stiles had woken him up and dragged him from their shared room in Gryffindor Tower because he had remembered something Derek had said earlier that week, some off-handed comment about American werewolves in Scotland. It slipped out before he had realized that he hadn’t actually told Stiles that he was one. And because for the past like six years, ever since he had sat down on the Hogwarts Express for the first time and been joined by the lanky, awkward kid who wouldn’t stop talking, he had a major crush on the dude.

Either way, Stiles had spent a few hours that night sitting on Derek’s bed, cross-legged, grilling him on anything and everything werewolf-related.

Stiles was on a ladder, making exasperated noises as he searched through yet another endless stack of dusty old books while Derek just glared at him from below.

"You could help me, you know," he threw back over his shoulder as he lost count of the stack again.

"Why? Everything I need to know about werewolves is right here," he tapped the side of his head, and Stiles rolled his eyes. "Why do I need some book to tell me more about them?”

"Because," Stiles umphed as he slid a pile of disorganized tomes across the shelf with his forearm, ” You aren’t like any werewolf I’ve ever heard of.” He brushed dust from the sleeve of his hastily-donned robe and coughed as he inhaled some of the particles. “Plus, I have a hunch about something.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, settling his arms back across his chest. “Care to share it?”

“Not until I’ve found this book—Aha! There you are.” He pulled out a dusty, leather-bound copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and blew the dust off of the cover before he heaved it onto the reading table. It landed with a very audible, blasphemous clunk in the nearly-silent library. Derek cringed at the sound. He cringed again when a disembodied voice shushed them vehemently from behind another stack.

Probably just the librarian’s ghost again. Nobody that would yell at them for being down here in the middle of the night.

If Stiles heard any of it, he gave no sign. He already had the massive book flipped open, and was scrolling through the parchment pages with such speed that Derek wondered if he was actually seeing any of the words on the pages at all.

He watched them flick by as he moved to look over Stiles’ shoulder, feeling the warmth seeming to radiate from the human in the frigid, dry air of the library. And for a second, just one, the scent that reached Derek’s nose wasn’t that of worn leather covers, parchment, and dust. It was the muted vanilla and citrusy-cinnamon scent of Stiles. He inhaled instinctively at the smell, and Stiles gave him a wary side-glare before turning his attention back to the book and muttering something about Derek definitely not being like other werewolves. His heartbeat up-ticked audibly, Derek couldn’t help but notice. But he didn’t say anything.

“Okay, so this is what I was talking about,” Stiles said, his finger resting on roughly the middle of a page of miniscule text entitled Werewolves, Lycanthropy, and Werewolfry. “It says here that werewolves, when they mate as such, which is really rare by the way, don’t produce human offspring at all. They produce actual wolf litters. They are said to be exceptionally beautiful and possess near-human intelligence, but cannot shape-shift.”

Derek snorted. “Tell that to my mom.”

“That’s what I mean. You told me that when she shifted, she turned into an actual wolf, right?”

“Yeah, it was a trait really rare among our kind. That’s why the packs gravitated around her, and looked to her as a leader.”

“Then I think somewhere between this book and now, something must have happened for these packs of wolves to figure out how to shape-shift. That is why I think you are the way you are, wolf-wise.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Stiles sighed, as if having to explain his theory was a terrible inconvenience. “I mean that somehow, either your mom or your grandparents or something were these wolves,” he gestured at the page with an open hand, “the offspring of two werewolves who mated in wolf-form,” he flipped the page, revealing a beautiful ink rendering of a black wolf against the moonlight, teeth barred and snarling, red eyes glaring through the page at them both. “Because the normal werewolf infection can’t be passed on hereditarily. Only through the bite. You said you were born a wolf, right?”

“Stiles, you know the answer to that.” Seriously, they had spent the last six-and-a-half years in the same goddamn house, the last year actually sharing one of the nicer bedrooms above the dormitories.

“Of course I do, just humor me.”

Derek rolled his eyes into the next century and sighed, which halfway through, became a yawn. “Right. I was born a wolf.”

Stiles’ smile was blinding. Derek could almost smell the barely-contained glee oozing from his pores as he quickly jumped up. According to this book, that has never happened before.”

“But it happened all the time in back in California. Hell, half the packs that lived around Beacon Hills were made up of families of werewolves, each one passed the effects of the bite by their parents,” Derek retorted.

“That’s not all,” Stiles wagged a finger and turned back to the first page of the section. “It says here that when a person shifts, they lose all abilities to recognize who they are or the people around them. They would kill their best friend just as easily as they would anything else. Which, of course, they only ever hunt humans.” He paused. “None of that holds true for or the others you said are in your pack. Each and every one of you can control your shifts, who and what you attack, can still speak, and still think like a person can.” Stiles’ happiness was almost breathless. “Don’t you see?” He reached out and grabbed Derek’s arms in his fists, shaking them lightly for emphasis, his eyes flicking searchingly between Derek’s own.

“Yeah,” Derek’s voice cracked, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of Stiles’ hands on him. He went silent, afraid to speak again.

Stiles just sighed as he searched Derek’s eyes, the smile faltering from his face as he dropped his hands from Derek’s arms. “No you don’t. You don’t really care about this, do you?”

“No, I do. You jus- You dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the library. To show me a large, albeit slightly outdated, book on werewolves.”

“I just thought that maybe- that you would think that I didn’t like you or something after you told me, like after you told me about your parents a few years ago, and I didn’t know what to say and you didn’t talk to me for like a month because I didn’t understand. I just… I just didn’t want that to happen again. So I came down here and looked up everything I could find on werewolves.” He dipped his head away from Derek’s eyes, flush of color spreading across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I thought you’d like it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand absentmindedly.

Derek was dumbfounded. “So you did all this for me?” He asked, genuine surprise creeping into his voice. Stiles looked up and met his gaze.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “I wanted to show you that I still cared. That I wasn’t going to run for the hills because my roommate was a—“

Derek killed the rest of the sentence as he crashed their lips together, the last of Stiles’ words ending with a little surprised noise in the back of his throat. For a second, Derek realized that he could have just made this whole thing worse, that Stiles would come to his senses and push Derek away, thoroughly freaked out by his werewolf roommate kissing him. As Stiles’ hands slid up around the crook of his jaw, that fear silently faded away.

In the cold of the empty library, Derek felt heat spread throughout his body, curling his toes as Stiles’ tongue slipped past his own. He pushed hands through the opening of Stiles’ robe, slipping them underneath the hem of the shirt beneath it against the warmth of the human’s skin. With a small moan, he pulled Stiles’ hips against his own.

When they pulled apart, Stiles’ lips were swollen and red, jagged breaths passing between them as Derek moved his mouth over the human’s jaw onto the sensitive skin of his neck.

“So when did you…?” Derek could practically feel the naturally interrogatory expression that was spread across Stiles’ face.

In between sucking bruises into Stiles’ skin, Derek answered breathlessly. “Since I met you on the train.” Stiles smiled and a relieved little sigh escaped his mouth as he held Derek close.

“Oh, thank god. I thought I was the only one.”

Derek pulled back, eyebrows shooting up to their surprised place and Stiles laughed. “You- you- what? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Stiles’ chuckle faded away as Derek returned his attention to Stiles’ throat, nuzzling the skin as he spoke.

“Wha- I have spent literally almost every moment with you for the past six years. I dragged you to the sign-up for 7th year rooms five minutes after they announced them.” He moaned as Derek licked a stripe up the other side of his neck, over the cord of muscle just past his jugular. “I’ve stolen your shirts, dropped serious hints, dragged you home with me at Christmas, the list goes on. How could you not know?”

Derek shrugged, a little laugh quietly escaping his content smile into Stiles’ skin. The human snorted.

“So I guess that’s why you guys are creatures of near-human intelligence then?”

He yelped as Derek bit him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave Comments and Kudos before you go!
> 
> Feel free to check out the rest of my Sterek-related stuff at my tumblr: watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com


End file.
